


The Freak Fleet

by MissKitsune08



Series: The Freak Fleet [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Imperial Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10054352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKitsune08/pseuds/MissKitsune08
Summary: Members of the Seventh Fleet teach Admiral Konstatine’s crew that they are a force to be reckoned with.





	

Author's Note:

Written before _Thrawn_ novel, therefore it follows the old Imperial Navy rank system (in summary, leaving out a couple of ranks):

Ensign -> Lieutenant -> Lieutenant Commander -> Commander -> Captain -> Vice Admiral -> Admiral -> Fleet Admiral -> Grand Admiral

* * *

 

Vice Admiral Thrawn turned off the holoprojector as the door to his command room opened, letting in a stormtrooper commander with the infamous trio who had caused such commotion during their brief re-supply run at Cadavine Imperial Enclave. He nodded in acknowledgment, motioning to the stormtrooper commander to leave. The soldier gave him a sharp salute, wordlessly returning back to his post behind the door.

Thrawn then focused his attention at the trio of ISD _Chimaera_ ’s officers: a lieutenant commander, a lieutenant, and a quartermaster. All three looked like they were about to face the execution squad, and rightly so. He breathed out a small sigh, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

“Gentlemen,” Thrawn said in a tone cold as ice, giving all of them a hard glare. “I will ask you only once. Who threw the first punch?”

All three visibly flinched and exchanged worried glances. The lieutenant took one step forward and mustered enough courage in himself to look directly into Thrawn’s eyes.

“I did, sir.” The man croaked out in a hoarse voice.

Thrawn narrowed his eyes and waited until the other was no longer able to meet his deep gaze. Humans found his glowing eyes intimidating, and while it was often detrimental at the workplace, at times like these one glance was enough to put even the most insubordinate crewmen back to their place. He noticed a drop of sweat streaking down the lieutenant’s right temple.

The man was of a medium built with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a well-groomed mustache; his fair skin tone gave away a man who had spent most of his life on a ship and it made high contrast to the black eye he had received during the fight.

“Lieutenant,” Thrawn said gravely. “While this is certainly not the first time a member of my fleet has participated in a fist fight with fellow officers, never before anyone under my command allowed themselves to be provoked into _initiating_ physical violence. Let me express my utter disappointment in the way you conducted yourselves.”

The lieutenant swallowed visibly, his fair complexion getting unnaturally pale. “There is no excuse for my actions, sir.” 

He was interrupted by the lieutenant commander who had decided to come to his friend’s rescue. “Sir, we were approached by _eight_ bridge officers from Admiral Konstatine’s fleet with a clear intention of--”

Thrawn silenced him by raising his hand; he leaned back in his chair, studying the trio intently. “I am not interested in retelling the official record. Nor in excuses. I want to know the exact words that made _my_ men to lose their composure and start a bar brawl straight out of a holodrama. There was no alcohol involved. Not on your part, at least.”

They exchanged another worried glance, and the lieutenant decided to take the initiative again. “Well, sir,” he started hesitantly. “The insults were directed, ehm, at you personally. I would rather not to repeat them in the present company.”

“Lieutenant, I don’t have all day,” Thrawn said in a tone that broke no argument.

The lieutenant took a deep breath to steel himself and finally shrugged in resignation. He had the look of a man ready to die for his words. “Well, sir, they called you, ehm,... a bastard child of the Vice Roy Nute Gunray and his blue skinned Twi’lek whore… _sir_ ,” he added the formality at the end in an awkward attempt to not to make the accusation sound as an insult from his side.

Thrawn blinked. “Is that it?” he threw back, deadpan. “Though I admit I had not heard that one.” Usually, they called him a Pantoran with an eye condition. How uncultured.

Thrawn sighed in annoyance. “Gentlemen, if you honestly think that it was the first time my alien heritage was addressed in this manner during my service in the Imperial Navy I am going to be more than disappointed with you...”

The trio visibly winced at the word alien.

 _Humans_.

A near-human or a non-human raised in the Galactic Empire would no doubt feel insulted at such blatant display of xenophobia. But Thrawn was a Chiss, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, a merit adoptive who had been accepted to the Eighth Ruling Family despite his common-born status. In the eyes of the Chiss Ascendancy, these were the Uncivilized Territories. Not uncivilized at all in his eyes, however; still, being seen as an alien could not have possibly offended him. In a manner of speaking he _was_ an alien to the people of the Galaxy, there was no shame in admitting the truth. 

Thrawn could see the color slowly coming back to the brown-eyed lieutenant’s cheeks.

“No, sir. That was just the beginning.” The officer got his courage back once he realized that he would not be executed on the spot for repeating the insult. “I told Commander Dorja his assumption was obviously wrong since there was no lekku sprouting from your head. At that he almost threw the first punch himself had his comrades not stopped him.”

“Oh?” Thrawn suppressed a smirk. To the present company he no doubt looked as  impassive as ever but a fellow Chiss would have been ablw to tell that he found the lieutenant’s comeback highly amusing.

“Then please do tell, and leave no detail.”

* * *

We had been discussing the new E-11D blaster rifles that were soon supposed to start mass production when a service droid came to our table with three glasses of blue milkshake.

“Complimentary drinks from gentlemen at the bar,” said the droid in its dull mechanical voice.

We all turned to face the eight navy officers at the bar who had been watching us closely for some time. A lieutenant commander, three lieutenants, and four ensigns. All of them quietly sipping what appeared to be a Forvish ale.

We shrugged and took the drinks from the droid, raising our glasses in a gesture of mock thanks.

“This has to be the oldest trick in the universe,” I murmured, putting the glass to my lips. “Blue milk, ha? Someone sure thinks they are being funny.”

Meanwhile the eight officers came over and sat down at our table without asking for permission.

Dagon cleared his throat and addressed the supposed leader of the group. “I do not believe we have met, gentlemen.” 

“I am Lieutenant Commander Dorja of the ISD _Relentless,_ Admiral Konstatine’s flagship.” Said the leader in a superior tone and snatched the menu out of my fingers. Others made no attempt at introducing themselves. They sat down with their arms crossed across their chests in a clear display of animosity.

“And we have met, at the Bresnan banquet thrown in Captain Thrawn’s honor.”

Captain Thrawn’s honor, not Captain Konstatine’s.

Not long ago Kassius Konstatine had been assigned to deal with a criminal organization called Kwuennox Smugglers that had been terrorizing Wellte-Ir system for more than a decade. It took him more than four months to locate the base of the criminal warlord Ozik Poyiu, and his ship suffered heavy losses during their encounter, eventually being forced to retreat and call for reinforcements. Captain Thrawn had answered the emergency call and thanks to his unorthodox tactics he had not only destroyed their main base of operations but also taken apart the whole criminal network, exposing their business connections in the Bresnan royal court. The Duchess had been so impressed with Captain Thrawn that she threw a banquet in his honor and even rewarded him with a clay sculpture made by a renowned local artist.

“Thank you for your generosity.” Dagon took a deep sip from his drink and licked his lips. “I think I will order one more glass. One can never have enough calcium and vitamins living on a starship.”

It was clearly not what they had expected to hear.

“Only a member of the Freak Fleet would love blue milk so much,” muttered a green-eyed lieutenant with reddish brown hair and long sideburns. He leaned forward and his lips curled into a snarl.

“You should try it sometime, you know, it is very good for one’s health.” I chuckled and set the drink on the table. “And while we are at it, I can recommend you the blue cheese cake, it is soft and creamy, and free of additives.”

Dorja's eyes narrowed. “I don’t take advice from an alien loving scum like you. You are a disgrace to the Empire. And your freshly baked Vice Admiral should be stripped of the Imperial uniform and sent by the first shuttle back to the mudwater world he has come from.”

Freja barked out a short laugh, almost spilling his milkshare. “You see, there is just one catch, no one seems to know what species he is or what planet he is from.” He raised his chin in a challenge. “But maybe you can enlighten us, pals.”

“Oh I know what he is. He is a bastard child of the Viceroy Nute Gunray and his blue skinned Twi’lek whore.” Dorja spat out in a disgusted tone. Then suddenly they all exploded in laughter as if it was the most hilarious thing in the universe.

I didn’t think they would appreciate rolling my eyes at their display of xenophobia so I kept my face impassive. “Is that so? Where are his lekku, then? It would sure explain the red eyes and blue skin but I can’t see lekku sprouting from either side of his head.”

Dorja’s expression darkened. He stood up, knocking over the chair. “You kriffing--” he growled out and he was about to throw himself on me but he was prevented by his peers who caught his right hook in midair. He was fuming in anger but apparently he had enough common sense left to take up the chair and sit down.

A blue-eyed, black haired lieutenant put his hand on Dorja’s shoulder and decided to take over. He looked somewhat familiar to me… I could swear he had introduced himself to me at the banquet. Slav? Oh, Slavin!

“You know,” Slavin’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I was the one serving drinks to Konstatine that night at the banquet so I couldn’t help to overhear the small talk. The Duchess was fawning all over Thrawn all evening, trying to get his attention by showing him Bresnani art. There were few rather … explicit pieces she pointed him at.”

Slavin let go of Dorja’s shoulder and sat down along with the rest. “He kept babbling on an on about the clay composition and the insight it gave to their native mind, paying no attention to the Duchess herself.”

I threw a quick glance at my companions to see that they were watching Slavin with guarded expressions. We all heard the rumors about what had happened at the banquet.

“The Duchess even spilled her drink on her clothes and Thrawn just blinked, suggesting she should perhaps call a handmaiden to attend to it. Captain Konstatine was so shocked at Thrawn’s negligence that he stepped in and offered to take the Duchess to her suite. Captain Thrawn might have won that day but Captain Konstatine won that night.”

I clenched my fists instinctively, ready to remove that smirk from the dirty sleemo’s face. “The Duchess is a lady. A high born, married lady. All we know for certain is that Captain Konstantine saw her off, the rest is just nothing but rumors and gossip.”

“You can believe whatever you want. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes.” Slavin pointed at his chest.

“And we are supposed to take you word for it?” Freja joined in.

“Ha. Perhaps the red-eyed freak is not interested in ladies at all.” The reddish haired lieutenant spat out, his face contorted in a wicked grin. “Perhaps he swings in the opposite direction.”

A low growl escaped Freja; he slammed his fist onto the table, rising slowly.

“Are you even listening to yourself, _Lieutenant_ _?_ That’s _Vice Admiral Thrawn_ , to you, me, and anyone else in the Imperial Fleet. He outranks all of us by light years and he has earned that rank and uniform. So he is blue. Great, you passed the color blind test, congratulations. Whatever else he is, whatever direction he swings, is none of your business. And I suggest you stop this nonsense right now before I remind you where you belong.”

Vice Admiral Thrawn was anything but stupid. While the Duchess had left with Konstatine much to the ISD _Relentless_ ’s crew's joy that night, the embarrassment had probably saved Thrawn’s career. He might have been a tactical genius but he still was the only high ranking alien in the service of Imperial Navy and as such he could not afford to put his entire future at risk because of a night of passion with a human lady of a noble birth. COMPNOR must have been already breathing hard down on Thrawn’s neck, ready to make an example out of the cunning alien at the first breach of the New Order protocol.

“You remind me where I… No, I will show you where you and your whole Freak Fleet belongs!” The lieutenant thundered. “You are a bunch of misfits, alien loving freaks, and whores who got their ranks through sleeping with their superiors!”

“Oh, you just envy our male to female ratio!” Dagon threw back. “And I suggest you keep your filthy mouth shut in front of our stormtroopers if you value you manhood. I know of one woman in particular assigned to Thrawn’s elite stormtrooper squad who would hang you by the balls for that comment.”

It looked like the threat threw them off the balance; female stormtroopers were a rare sight. Once they got out of their stupor they started getting to their feet one by one, straghtening up to their full heights and flexing their arms. We were outnumbered eight to three; I risked a quick glance at my companions yet there was no fear in their eyes.

“I see Thrawn chose a fitting name for his flagship then.” Slavin took over again. “ _Chimaera_. A hybrid.” He spat out the word as an insult.

“An abomination resulting of screwing with different species. What changes he made to the ship itself, eh? Had he Gemon-4 ion engines replaced with Separatists dreadnought junk? Or maybe he had the Borstel NK-7 ion cannons replaced with _Venator_ class laser cannons?”

I could feel the blood in my veins boiling. The son of a Hutt dared to insult our flagship! ISD _Chimaera_ was fresh out of docks, the newest and mightiest of the _Imperial_ class Star Destroyers. I was a Corellian by birth: no matter the odds, I would beat that laserbrain into a pulp.

Lieutenant Commander Dorja chose that moment to break his silence, pointing out at the crest on my right arm. “And what the hell is this supposed to be? A skull? A hand?” He snickered.

“If you had any idea what just said...” Freja growled.

I knew from the quartermaster the true meaning of the crest, a stylized expression of the three-headed mythical creature after which the Vice Admiral had named his flagship, or so Freja had been told. Thrawn had hand painted the symbol on his assassin droids, and when the word got out, soon the symbol appeared on Thrawn’s elite stormtrooper commandos’ pauldrons, and then the rest of the crew started following suit.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Dorja said between the barks of laughter, “that the Vice Admiral himself came up with that scribble. All the talk about art and all he can draw is a first grader finger painting--”

* * *

The lieutenant let out a discreet cough. “And so you see, sir, that’s where I lost it.”

Thrawn had been sitting in his command chair in silence the entire time, patiently listening to the highly entertaining story. Or at least it had been highly entertaining until the lieutenant got to the insults directed at _Chimaera_. To much of his horror, a venomous hiss escaped his lips. He tried to mask his transgression by a cough.

“I see. Your name, lieutenant?”

“Gilad Pellaeon, sir.”

“You understand, Lieutenant Pellaeon, that in any case you will have to be punished. Admiral Konstatine is not pleased to have his primary bridge crew restricted to sickbay for two weeks.”

To say Konstatine was not pleased was the understatement of a year. Thrawn had to turn down the volume of the holonet transmission and activate the profanity filter that beeped out most of his insults. Technically, Konstatine was not his direct superior officer but he still was one rank above him for the time being. The gray haired admiral finally calmed down when Thrawn promised him that the responsible party would receive treatment fully befitting their actions.

However, Thrawn doubted that commendation and promotion for all three would fit with Konstatine’s idea of treatment fully befitting their actions.

“Sir, if I may,” said the two remaining officers in unison. They looked at each other and the lieutenant commander let the quartermaster come to his friend's defense.

“Lieutenant Pellaeon only threw the first punch. With all due respect to his skills, he is not very good at hand-to-hand combat, sir. It was I who incapacitated most of _Relentless_ ’s bridge crew. I should receive the punishment.”

The lieutenant commander opened his mouth, no doubt to also add his share of blame.

Thrawn silenced them all with a gesture. “Quartermaster Covell, given your occupation you must no doubt be familiar how the embroidery came into possession to more than half of the crew. It is hardly a standard issue material.”

The Quartermaster stood up to his full height, expression on his features carved in stone. He had the look of someone who knew he would face consequences for his actions but made his peace with it. “I couldn’t say, sir.”

Thrawn’s eyes glowed like orbs at such insubordination and the other man tried desperately not to flinch.

“I couldn’t say, sir.” The Quartermaster repeated but his tone carried much less bravado than before.

Thrawn, of course, had the access to interrogation techniques that would make the man talk. There was no need to use them, though, and at any rate it would be shame to break such a promising officer.

“Very well. Would you at least tell me how you managed to prevail against such unfavorable odds?” Thrawn said at last and had to suppress a smile at seeing how the man’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“I, ah, practice Wrruushi martial arts in my free time, Admiral.” The Quartermaster said sheepishly. “It is a hobby of mine.”

Thrawn raised an eyebrow. “A Wookiee martial art? From a man in logistics and supply division? You are a man of surprises, Quartermaster Covell.”

Thrawn rose and slowly walked over to the trio. They all stood up to text book attention, calmly awaiting their punishment.

“Gentlemen, that will be two months of thrash compactor and sanitation duty, to each of you. No help from cleaning droids allowed. Plus lieutenant Pellaeon will scrub up and polish all stromtrooper armor on board.”

Thrawn took pleasure in seeing their jaws drop in utter disbelief. “There will be an inspection. If there is as much as a single smear of dirt on the armor or I will not be able to see myself in it like in a mirror, I _will_ have your head, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

The three officers continued standing there until they finally got out of their stupor and gave him their best salutes. “Sir, yes, sir!” They shouted in unison and marched out of his command room just in time to let in the Captain, Voss Parck.

“Brave men indeed,” the Captain commented wryly as he walked past them.

“After their disciplinary probation is over, please see to having Lieutenant Commander Niriz and Lieutenant Pellaeon transferred to the regular alpha shift bridge crew. I will talk to the General about Quartermaster Covell's possible career path change, his talents at close combat could prove more useful at the battlefield.” Thrawn said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

The Captain nodded briskly. “Lieutenant Pellaeon’s background is very interesting read, sir. It looks like he made quite a name for himself as a captain of a Republic's assault ship during the Clone Wars.”

Thrawn stroked his chin, lost in thoughts, his eyes darting over to the holo of a long lost masterpiece depicting a battle of Ryloth during the Clone Wars. “Yes. There is great potential in him. However, he needs to learn patience. I cannot have any of my men losing their composure like that.”

The Captain risked a conspiratorial grin. [Oh, I can recall once I had to bail out of a brig and discipline a certain lieutenant who got into a fist fight over a painting.] He said in an oddly accented Cheunh.

When they were alone, the Captain addressed him as Syndic Mitth’raw’nuruodo, using the most formal grammar of the Chiss tonal language. Or at least as much as his human vocal cords allowed it. After Thrawn’s first contact with humans, he had dismissed the idea that a human could ever pronounce Cheunh correctly, but Voss Parck made it his personal mission to prove him wrong. And he certainly did, in many things. Far more things that Thrawn would have ever admitted aloud. 

[That was completely different. The fool could hardly tell apart Mon Calamari pre-Imperial surrealistic paintings from their Post-Imperial abstract paintings and he had the audacity to call the masterpiece of Kahfr Oladia a swoosh of bantha’s tail.] The least Thrawn could do for Voss Parck was to put up with the man's quirks and his human concept of humor. 

[And I did _not_ strike first.]

The Captain shrugged but wisely refrained from commenting. [The last time I checked art history was not included in the entrance examination to the Imperial Academy.] 

[Hmmm,] Thrawn mused aloud. [Maybe I should include it in the application for transfer to the Seventh Fleet.] His face and voice were devoid of any emotion, unreadable even to a Chiss.

The Captain’s eyes boggled. “Did you just make a joke, sir?” He asked disbelievingly in Basic.

Thrawn rewarded him with a glare. “Do not be ridiculous, Captain. I do not indulge in such human vices.” He put his hands behind his back and narrowed his eyes.

[Moreover, do not presume to play innocent. There is only one possible person who would know the true meaning of that crest to me and who would be daring enough to put that idea into their heads. Quartermaster Covell’s silence might have been admirable but we both know who is behind this conspiracy.]

The Captain put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. [Guilty as charged, sir,] He tried awkwardly first in Cheunh but then he shook his head and switched back to Basic; human idioms did not translate well into Cheunh and vice versa. “I see no reason why the SeventhFleet could not come up with their own official logo, sir, that is all.”

Thrawn let out a small sigh. “Pray the Emperor comes to the same conclusion, then,” he said ominously, and he could see the other man flinch as if the idea had not occurred to him. Which it probably had not.

“But it has already spread too far to put an end to it. Very well, Captain, see to it that at least the crew wears a proper uniform once they have to disembark the ship. Dismissed.”

 

**THE END**

 

MissKitsune08's note after reading _Thrawn_ novel:

Wookieepedia on [Voss Parck/Legends](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Voss_Parck/Legends):  _Parck remained associated with Thrawn throughout the Chiss's swift rise through the Imperial ranks. (...)_

_Though Parck began as Thrawn's discoverer, he quickly found the relationship reversed. Thrawn was already known to Emperor Palpatine and was greatly sought by him. Thrawn was promoted swiftly while Parck was left in his wake. Thrawn remained quite loyal to Parck, however, keeping him as his right-hand man throughout his career. Parck returned this loyalty in turn. He was deeply impressed by Thrawn's abilities and willingly shared in his supposed exile to the Unknown Regions (...)._

_Besides a firm grasp of tactics, strategy, negotiation, and information-gathering, Parck spoke multiple languages in addition to his native Basic, including Cheunh, Honoghran, Twi'leki, and Zabraki. (...)_

I assumed Parck would still be associated with Thrawn during his swift rise through the Imperial ranks in Canon so you can probably imagine my surprise when reading the book... *crushed* But hey, we've got a brand new character, Eli Vanto, and I even found a way to include Eli in the Freak Fleet. 

BTW Check this out ([Wayback Machine](http://web.archive.org/web/20090602014438/http://wizards.com/default.asp?x=starwars%2Farticle%2Fsw20040226eu)). Ah, early 2000s, so much nostalgia...  

[Dagon Niriz](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dagon_Niriz) is the future Captain of the ISD _Admonitor_ , [Freja Covell](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Freja_Covell) is the future General of the ISD _Chimaera_ 's Army contingent. And [Gilad Pellaeon](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Gilad_Pellaeon) needs no introduction, I hope :-)


End file.
